Somebody to Hold (Tyler Jamison #2) - April Wilson Page 0,33

him all evening long from across the bar. I watched women coming onto him, giving him fuck-me eyes, but he didn’t take any of them up on their offers. That kind of gave me hope. When we crossed paths in the hallway, I waited outside the restroom for him.”

Layla grins at Tyler. “When you first saw Ian, did you think he was hot?”

Tyler suppresses a smile. “No comment.”

Layla balls up a napkin and throws it at Tyler. “Oh, come on! Be honest.”

Tyler shrugs. “I might have thought he was a good-looking guy, yes. You know, in an objective way.”

She laughs, then looks to me. “And what did you think when you first saw Tyler?”

I lean back on the sofa and eye Tyler, who’s looking a bit uncomfortable being put on the spot like this. “I thought he was the hottest guy I’d ever seen. He gave me goosebumps. He still does.”

Layla bounces up onto her knees. “I knew it! It was love at first sight, wasn’t it?”

Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Are you kidding? He was such an uptight stick in the mud, I didn’t think I had a chance with him. But I wasn’t willing to give up so easily. I worked my ass off to get him to notice me.” I lay my head on his shoulder. “Isn’t that right?”

“Oh, I noticed you all right. But I was trying to be professional.” He grins at me. “You loved pulling my chain, didn’t you?”

“Yep. I still do.” I tilt my face up and kiss his cheek.

Layla is beaming at us. “You guys are so cute.” She takes a sip of her lemonade. “I envy you. It’s obvious you’re really into each other.” Then her smile fades. “Not everyone’s so lucky.”

My sister has trouble making friends. She finds it difficult to trust people, and when you’re so wealthy you have to have a bodyguard following you around everywhere, you start to question everyone who pays you any attention. She’s been burned so many times by girls who are just using her, and by guys who see her as a conquest. Her health issues only exacerbate the problem.

“Layla,” Tyler says, drawing her attention. “Earlier you said Sean gives you the creeps. What makes you say that?”

She sits back down and shrugs. “I don’t know. He just does.”

“Has he done or said anything to you to make you doubt him?”

“Not exactly. It’s just, I don’t know. The way he watches me, for one thing. I’ll catch him staring at me, and it makes my skin crawl. And, honestly, I’m pretty sure he’s doing drugs. He comes and goes from the house at weird hours, and sometimes when he comes back his eyes are really glassy. I just don’t trust him.”

“In the middle of the night?” Tyler says. “Why is he around you at night?”

“Her bodyguard has a separate apartment in my parents’ house,” I explain. “So he’s close by and can monitor her blood sugar in the night.”

Tyler frowns. “I really think you should tell your parents how you feel, Layla. A bodyguard should never make you feel uncomfortable.”

She stares down at her plate as she pushes food around with her chopsticks. “I don’t want to get him in trouble. It’s probably just me, you know? Maybe I’m being oversensitive.” Then her voice drops. “It could be my paranoia.”

The shame I see in her dark eyes makes me sad. If I could take my sister’s mental health issues from her, I would. I’d gladly suffer them in her place. “I don’t think it’s that, sis.” Her hallucinations are primarily auditory. She hears voices that aren’t there—mean, critical voices. She doesn’t go around suspecting people in general.

Tyler drops the issue, but I can tell he’s not happy about it. Maybe I should say something to Mom and Dad, but I hate going behind Layla’s back. She already feels like she doesn’t have any control over her life. If I take what little control she does have, it would just make things worse for her.

Layla’s head snaps toward the living room window as if she heard something outside.

I turn to look, but there’s nothing there. “Layla?”

She’s lost in thought, a frown on her face, and no longer paying us any attention.

Tyler glances at me, then back at my sister. “Layla?”

But she still doesn’t respond.

“She’s hallucinating,” I say quietly. I lean across the coffee table and tap her shoulder.

Layla jumps, turning back to face me. “I’m sorry, what?” Then she must notice it’s starting